


stray cat strut

by MissDinahDarling



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Assassination, Cliffhangers, Deception, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion Has a Past, Jaskier | Dandelion In Love, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Oblivious Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, Witcher Contracts, Witcher Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:48:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23754886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissDinahDarling/pseuds/MissDinahDarling
Summary: jaskier graduates from the school of cats at a young age.he's a remarkably successful witcher, ruthless and cold-hearted, who carries out his jobs without a shred of mercy or regret.then he receives themostenticing contract of all - geralt of rivia.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 45
Kudos: 525





	stray cat strut

when jaskier becomes a fully-fledged witcher, he gets thrust upon the world with nary a warning.

he’s had his training and he’s ready for his skills to be bought by the highest bidder - his claws are sharp and his fangs are ready and thirsty to sink into unsuspecting throats. for he has graduated from the school of cats, and this feline is ready to ravage the world.

he’s been trained to remain unseen amongst polite society, so he poses as a bard, enticing his victims and luring his contracts into his seductive traps using clever lyrics and dangerous tune. he hides his eyes and intent using a potion brewed with extract of doppler - it leaves him scenting sweet, innocent and unassuming.

jaskier thrives in being underestimated.

he lives to _surprise_.

* * *

he has two years’ worth of assassinations under his belt when he receives the most enticing contract of all - geralt of rivia.

 _another_ witcher.

a _wolf_ who turned blaviken into a slaughterhouse and left behind some very vengeful employers.

so jaskier hunts the wolf down, discovers he’s staying at some down-and-out tavern and puts on a familiar façade of an air-headed bard with too much love for a world drenched in blood and decay. it’s his favourite mask to wear - a soft-hearted fool to hide his wicked ways and his heart bursts with pride when he spies his prey, tucked away in a dark corner. 

he stalks towards him, proceeds to ramble and bluster his way through the initial meeting, acts awed and impressed, despite inwardly sneering at geralt’s cold demeanour and defensive countenance.

and when the wolf sinks his fist deeply into his gut, jaskier can only smile as he imagines knocking the bastard off his pedestal with a dagger to the throat. he thinks he could kill him now and be done with the contract, but well.

geralt of rivia is so very _interesting_.

and jaskier has always been an inquisitive creature, so thirsty for knowledge and ravenous for _more_ \- so, he’ll take his time with this one. he wants to learn all about geralt, his motivations, his history - jaskier wants to claw _everything_ from the wolf with the fearsome reputation who clearly can’t scent through a simple doppler potion.

oh, yes. he is going to savour this.

besides, curiosity may kill the cat,

but satisfaction _always_ brings it back.

* * *

his interest piques and reaches new heights when they’re kidnapped by elves.

they break his lute and he inwardly vows to break their necks - but then their sob story spills like water from their lips. their plight and struggles almost touch his heart - except, he doesn’t have one.

it’s been burned out of him, alongside his morals, his hopes, his dreams.

his memories too, for he doesn’t remember much of his past life - only that his name had been julian and he had been a viscount. an unwanted one, seeing as he’d been sold off to settle a debt.

now there’s only jaskier,

named after a little weed, so pretty yet so _poisonous_.

* * *

they survive their encounter with the elves,

and the feline witcher can’t help but view his prey in a new light - for geralt had been so ready to die for him, had been prepared to let the devil live. he’s such an oddity for a witcher and jaskier wonders if it’s a _wolf_ -thing.

for mutts have always been idiotically soft for fools.

regardless, jaskier gets a new lute,

and he composes a song which allows his brethren and employers know that he’s found his target and he cannot wait to be paid–-

“ _when a humble bard/graced a ride along/with geralt of rivia/along came this song_!”

–-toss a coin to your witcher, indeed.

* * *

“how do you know _elder_?” geralt asks, suspicion glinting in his eyes.

a first, really.

because jaskier is so _sweet_ and _pure_ and fucking _innocent_ ,

what is there to be so suspicious of?

the answer is _nothing_ , so jaskier bats his lashes and lies, “darling, as a viscount, i had the best tutors across the continent,” he simpers sweetly, “why wouldn’t i know elder?

and geralt rolls his eyes and eats it all up.

* * *

sometimes, jaskier forgets he’s been hired to kill geralt.

because sometimes, the man acts more puppy than wolf.

he’s so _stupidly_ endearing and jaskier has to kick himself when he forgets who he is and what he must do.

* * *

but then… geralt becomes _odder_.

he’s so strangely _fussy_ for a witcher - he rejects most contracts, only taking ones that come from the needy, desperate and alone. he’s kind and soft against humans, despite them detesting him so. jaskier’s never hated the weak-willed creatures like his fellow witchers - rather, he finds them fascinatingly quaint.

and some of them are rather quite splendid in bed.

still, he never tolerates their prejudice like geralt,

never weathers their abuse and vitriol with stony acceptance.

it,

 _outrages_ him.

seeing a witcher being debased in such a fashion - and yes, they may be from rival schools, but the witcher is still his _kin_. so when the wolf tucks his tail between his legs and peers up at his abusers with wide eyes, jaskier leaps in with vicious words, hissing and spitting until all foes have fled.

it’s a thankless task, for geralt says naught but admonishments, gentle and rebuking.

but jaskier can smell the gratitude,

and it leaves him feeling unusually proud for hours afterwards.

* * *

and then they attend princess pavetta’s ball,

and once again, jaskier is astounded by geralt’s tolerance and patience for monsters and beasts.

he doesn’t understand where all this compassion has come from, because he was taught to kill such creatures on sight - to take and purge, because he is a cat in a world full of dirty rats.

he can’t comprehend it and so he sets his confusion aside and focuses on what _is_ familiar to him. as such, jaskier spends the evening seducing rich fools for pleasure, tricking them out of their prized possessions and their dignities.

he can’t quite forget the evening’s events, however

he can’t quite _forget_ … geralt’s kindness towards ugly creatures. finds himself wondering if he’d ever be worthy of such gentleness, or if.

if he’s too _hideous_ for such patient compassion.

for buttercups may be pretty, but they hide such deadly toxins.

* * *

regardless, the event has him viewing the wolf in a new light.

his fellow felines have always taught him to watch his own back, to keep his instincts sharper than his blades, that behind every smiling face lurks poisonous intentions, and yet.

jaskier finds himself wondering if he’s been fed rumours and falsehoods.

for there is no language a cat is more fluid in,

than the language of lies.

* * *

jaskier knows he shouldn’t be too stung to learn that his tutors have done nothing but feed into his fears, his angers, his _hatred_ , of the world outside the castle gates.

but he does feel indignant that the lesson they beat into him most,

was that witchers shouldn’t feel compassion or love,

that witchers were the apex predator and ought to prove it.

that there wasn’t anything more dangerous than a cat on a mission.

he supposes none of them ever encountered geralt, the witcher who fell for anyone who treated him with consideration and respect. a witcher who still loved, despite suffering with a shattered heart.

because… well, geralt could have corrected all their lessons,

without uttering a single, _hmmm_?

* * *

and,

and,

and, fuck.

* * *

jaskier likes him.

he isn’t sure when it had happened, or how it had developed,

fuck he should have slaughtered the dirty dog the moment he had dared strike him, but,

but then one day, he sees geralt tuck a carnation behind his horse’s ear and–-

“ _what an idiot, i can’t believe i fell for such an–- oh_.”

–-oh.

* * *

he doubles his intake of doppler-potion.

because, never mind finding out that jaskier was sent to kill him, that’s _one_ thing.

but to have geralt discover that he,

should the wolf even _suspect_ that he,

oh, he can’t bear the thought of geralt finding out that he,

that jaskier,

that he…

* * *

and well.

he can’t…

he _can’t_ do it.

* * *

jaskier can’t kill geralt.

 _fuck_.

* * *

so, they part ways.

the feline makes up some spiel over being seduced by the countess de stael and despite tasting the disappointment which radiates from geralt, the wolf accepts his decision.

jaskier pretends the heartbreak he hears is all his own,

because he doesn’t dare hope that he has a chance.

* * *

cats and dogs were never meant to mix, after all.

not romantically, at least.

besides.

he’s a witcher and he knows better - or at least, he thinks he does.

* * *

turns out, he doesn’t know _anything_.

* * *

it takes him a while,

but he decides to fuck the contract.

he’s not worried about being hunted down, about being chased by a spineless, little man who’s just been cheated out of his coin, because jaskier is very good at hiding in plain sight.

and well,

even if he _does_ get caught, then he’s also very good at slicing open throats.

* * *

he can’t avoid the wolf for too long,

the continent isn’t _that_ big, after all.

and life is so _terribly_ boring without him.

* * *

so, jaskier isn’t too fussed when their paths, inevitably, collide once more,

and though destiny doesn’t have a hand in their relationship, jaskier still can’t quite resist the siren call of fate, and thus he doesn’t shy away from his wolf. he’s a cat, with fangs and claws and _pride_. so, he prowls and advances upon the witcher, his mask falling neatly into place.

he’s a woebegone cad, heartbroken and full of restless longing.

and then he discovers that his odd little wolf is hunting a djinn which is oh-so-deliciously divine - except geralt yearns for slumber, because _of course he is_. the wolf is so delightfully simple in his desires, so jaskier takes it upon himself to show him the true power of such a creature.

they tussle and scrap for the amphora,

jaskier easily apprehends it from a wolf who is too soft to truly fight for it,

and he makes his wishes,

he desires death on a rival cat.

he makes an idle plea for the countess to be returned for him,

and then it hits him - he’s _not_ the true wish-bearer. the marks aren’t appearing on his body, he’s not in control of the djinn, so it must be–-

“ _jaskier_!”

–-and then he’s being yanked backwards and cat and wolf resume their fracas. they pull and yank on the urn, bickering and fighting with sharp words and glaring eyes,

until,

geralt pulls too sharply,

and jaskier stumbles on not-so-nimble feet,

and then there’s a solid thud as something falls between them. and jaskier’s belt suddenly feels lighter, but his heart feels heavier as they both glance down to see a medallion with a hissing cat engraved on the front.

the shine is dull and lacklustre,

but the image is terrifyingly clear.

“ _cat_ ,” geralt breathes, horrified as he directs betrayed eyes onto jaskier.

and for once, the feline finds himself utterly speechless.


End file.
